


The Damage You Have done

by yourlionheartx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlionheartx/pseuds/yourlionheartx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis goes missing in LA and Harry has to go home without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Damage You Have done

Monday

Harry feels sick to his stomach as he poses for pictures with fans, forcing a smile onto his face that makes his cheeks ache with the effort. Cameras flash so all he can see are white dots in his vision as he blinks back tears. A fan asks him where Louis is and he pretends he hasn't heard the question, looking past her and trying to find his mum's face in the crowd. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees that he still has no missed messages, and he tries his best to hold himself together in front of every one. His mind wonders towards horrible images of Louis lost somewhere, hurt, calling out his name. The grip he has on his phone tightens, and when it begins to buzz he holds it to his ear without checking the caller ID.

“Louis?” he breathes out. There's a pause.

“No honey, I'm sorry. It's mum.”

Harry steps out of the airport and leans back against the wall, letting his head fall back against the bricks behind him with a thump. There are still paparazzi stood around with cameras, trying to get pictures of him, and Harry pretends not to notice the people who stop to stare, trying to figure out who he is. 

“Harry? I'm on my way to you, got held up in traffic. Are you okay?” 

His brain can't even send words to his mouth. Every thing in him is hurting as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth to attempt to answer.

Anne knows she shouldn't be driving and talking on her phone, but the traffic is almost immobile and she needs to let Harry know that she's on her way. When Harry answers her with a choked out sob, she almost jumps out of the car to walk to him. 

Nothing makes sense. Louis is known to be unpredictable at times, maybe even a little reckless, but no one can understand why he would just leave like this, leaving Harry to wake up in their shared hotel room alone. 

Saturday

Harry and Louis had decided to stay in LA after the others had left, to mainly lie around in bed and be next to each other, and they had spent two whole days lazily fucking in various rooms of their penthouse suite, and lying out in the sun just watching each other and enjoying being in each others company without anything or any one else blocking the view. 

Now Harry lies next to his boy friend, both of them putting off the inevitable and planning to stay in bed until the last possible moment. They have to go home today, back to London, back to Louis and Eleanor, and Harry and every girl the media can link him with. And Harry is beginning to resent it. All the time he finds himself imaging him and Louis walking down the high street holding hands, but he knows that while he smiles as he thinks about this, it makes Louis feel sick with panic. If Harry mentions it he can see the change in Louis's expression, the way his adam's apple bobs and he has to cross his arms around himself to hide the fact they're shaking. 

“You know I want that too,” he'll say quietly, almost curling in on himself as he bows his head.

Usually Harry will leave it there and they don't mention it again, but today he just doesn't want this to end. 

“Let's walk out of here holding hands,” he says quietly, his face pressed against Louis's neck. He kisses the skin but then pulls away when he feels Louis tense up. Louis is silent, just staring up at the ceiling, and then he lets out a heavy breath and Harry falls back against the pillows as he sits up. 

“Don't start this now Harry, don't ruin this,” Louis hisses out. 

“I'm not trying to ruin anything, I just want to hold your hand in public. I'm not apologising for that.” 

“Jesus Christ.”

Louis gets to his feet and Harry just stares as he begins to pull his clothes out of the wardrobe and throw them into his suitcase, not turning around to see the look on Harry's face as Harry chews on his bottom lip, his eyes growing wider as he struggles to find something to say to make Louis stop. He doesn't want them to leave, he doesn't want this to end. 

“Lou,” he whines out, almost cringing at how childish he sounds. 

Louis stops what he's doing, holding a t shirt in his hands that he's pretty sure was once Harry's, but now could belong to either of them because they've both worn it an equal amount of times. He looks at it for a moment, and Harry thinks maybe he's changed his mind and is about to climb back into bed with him. But then Louis throws the t shirt down into his case and finally turns to look at Harry, tears already blurring his vision. 

“You know why we can't do that Harry. We're going home, back to reality, so start packing your stuff.”

“I don't want to go home.”

“It's just all about what you want and how you feel isn't it? Can't you just be grateful that we had this, that we're together?”

Louis's voice is raised, so Harry knows he's beginning to lose his patience. Harry feels like an annoying child being scolded by a teacher, so he gets to his feet and stands next to Louis, so he can look down at him.

“Sometimes I honestly think you'd be happier if we weren't together. And a lot of the time, I don't even feel like we're together at all.”

For a moment Louis doesn't move a muscle, and then he lets out a noise that sounds like an attempt at a laugh but is actually more of a sob. He turns away from Harry quickly and wipes at his eyes. When he looks back his eyes are red and his breaths come out in shaky gasps as he desperately tries to hold himself together. He shakes his head. 

“I love you, and that is no ones business but ours. Every thing I do is to protect you, and it is all because I fucking love you.”

He blinks and tears begin to roll down his cheeks. Harry isn't sure how to react because Louis never cries. Louis looks after Harry when he cries, but when it's the other way around Harry can only stand still with his mouth open watching as Louis puts his shoes on, his shaking hands not helping him to tie the laces, which he finally just tucks into the trainers instead. 

“I...I'm so sorry,” Harry finally stutters out but Louis just shakes his head again.

“I can't be here right now, I can't do this.”

Harry just watches as Louis walks out of the hotel room, and he wishes he could grab all the horrible words and put them back into his mouth. They've only ever argued over trivial things, like leaving the kitchen in a mess, or staying out at nightclubs too late, but they always make up straight away. This feels like something much bigger, and Harry can't help but wonder if he's just ruined every thing. 

Tuesday

He knows it's Niall before he opens the door. He's spent enough time with the guys to recognise the sound of their knuckles against wood, and he thinks that's probably a little weird but Louis once told him it was cute. Niall doesn't say a word when he sees Harry, he's smart enough to know that words won't be able to help, so he just pulls him in for a suffocating hug, his arms tight around Harry's waist and his face against his shoulder. Harry begs himself not to cry again, swallowing the tears.

“Hey Nialler,” he whispers into his band mates dark blonde hair. 

“Hey,” Niall replies, and Harry's pretty sure the grip Niall has on him gets even tighter.

“I appreciate the love mate, but I can't breathe,” he admits. 

Niall steps back with a small laugh, the noise sounding weird on Niall who usually throws his head back and lets out laughs that infect every one within a five mile radius. Harry pretends not to notice that Niall's smile isn't even close to reaching his eyes. 

“Wanted to make sure you were okay,” Niall says after a pause. 

“I'm okay,” Harry lies, knowing that if any one can see through him, it's Niall, who just watches him for a moment with those huge blue eyes looking right through the mask that Harry is trying to hide behind. It takes every ounce of strength that Harry has to not breakdown. He breathes hard and steady, screwing his eyes shut closed and ignoring the ache in his chest. It's not that Niall has never seen him cry, or that Niall isn't the best person to comfort him if he does, but Harry knows that if he does start, he probably won't be able to stop again, and he's exhausted. 

“He loves you, Harry, and he's going to be okay.”

“It's been three fucking days and he hasn't even spoken to his mum.”

Niall flinches a little at Harry's harsh tone, and it makes Harry feel bad when he sees him chewing down on his bottom lip, his head bowed as he blinks hard. This isn't all about Harry, this is affecting every one and Harry realises then that he needs to be there for his friends, even if he's hurting, because they need him too. 

“Don't cry,” Harry says. Niall turns away for a moment and wipes his eyes with the sleeve on his hoody before turning back and smiling brightly.

“Don't be silly.”

Harry thinks about how Niall and Zayn must have heard the news from management, and he imagines Niall curled up on his sofa and drowning in worry, much like Harry had been since Saturday. 

He had waited until half an hour before their plane was meant to leave, already knowing it was too late to get to the airport, and then he called his mum and then Louis's mum, and then he let management know what was happening, getting more hysterical with each call. Finally he called Liam and just cried down the phone while rambling incoherently. Liam was in Florida with his family, and ready to leave everything to get to Harry, but Harry had made him stay. 

“Come stay at mine tonight?” Niall suggests, and Harry doesn't hesitate before nodding. 

Sunday

Harry wakes with a start and immediately notices that Louis is not next to him. The alarm says it's past four in the morning and Harry feels nauseous, calling out Louis's name into the silent apartment. He grabs his mobile phone from the bedside table and he dials Louis's number.

It goes to voice mail again. He's been calling since about an hour after Louis left yesterday and Louis must have his phone turned off. It's around nine in the morning at home, so he calls Jay again and she answers on the first ring, making Harry feel sick with guilt as he tells her no, he still hasn't come back. 

After Harry hangs up, he puts on his shoes and a coat and goes back out to look again. 

It's dark, and it's probably a stupid idea, but Harry can see images of Louis lying in alley ways flickering through his brain, and he's jumping to the most horrific and quite gruesome conclusions. As he walks he calls all the hospitals in the area again. 

The sun begins to rise, and Harry stops walking to step closer to the railing that separates the side walk from the beach. He leans against it and watches, letting it sink in that Louis has been missing for a whole day. His phone rings and it's his mum telling him to come home. The thought of leaving Louis alone in LA makes Harry want to be sick, but Louis left him didn't he? And maybe Louis's really had enough of Harry, maybe Louis doesn't want to be found. 

“I'll come home tomorrow, give me one more day.”

“That's good, because your manager has already booked your flight for tomorrow morning,” 

When Harry gets back to the apartment he curls up on the bed and forces himself to get some sleep, his dreams are plagued with image of Louis, but this time he isn't hurt and screaming for Harry's help, he's just stood in front of Harry with that blank look on his face. He's just shaking his head, and telling Harry over and over, 'you ruined it this time, I'm not coming back to you'. 

Wednesday

Niall scrolls through his tweets and glances over at Harry who's sat opposite him with Zayn's arm over his shoulder. Zayn catches is eye and smiles slightly, Neither of them know how to answer the fans queries. There have been pictures of the three of them arriving in London, and plenty of Liam in Floirda, but every other tweet on Niall's feed is from a fan asking where Louis is. Niall wishes he had an answer for them. 

Both the boys turn to stare at Harry as his phone buzzes and Harry almost drops it when he pulls it out of his pocket and sees it's Louis's mum. 

“Jay?”

“Harry, babe, he's okay. He called me.”

“Oh Thank God,” Harry breathes out. He can't decide if he's going to start crying again or laughing, already feeling emotionally drained from the last few days. He's angry, so fucking angry that he feels like pounding his fists into Louis's chest until he begs for forgiveness. But he also wants to hold him so close, that he can never leave his sight again. 

“Where is he?” Harry asks.

“He didn't say honey, he just said he's okay. And he's sorry. ”

“You don't know where he is? Did he say when he's coming home?”

Out of the corner of Harry's eye he sees Zayn drop his head into his hands and he doesn't think he can deal with him crying as well. Niall is silent, sitting on the chair next to them with his laptop on his lap, watching Harry with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Jay takes a breath and Harry can feel his hands trembling as she answers. 

“I think he needs some space Harry.”

Harry has to wipe sweat from his forehead, but at the same time a shiver runs over his body and he can feel his heart speeding up, it feels like it's knocking against his rib cage. It aches.

“Harry,” Niall places his laptop next to him and gets to his feet. Harry can't focus on him, feeling the room tilt as he passes his mobile wordlessly to Zayn and tries to stand up. Niall's at his side, and Harry has to lean into him to stop falling. He fists his hands in Niall's t shirt and tries to listen to the rest of Zayn's conversation over the ringing in his ears. 

“Come on Harry, come outside.” 

Niall tugs him towards the door and Harry gulps and chokes on the air, his breath coming out in short sharp gasps. The cool air seems to wash over Harry, and he drops into the patio chair and watches Niall kneeling in front of him. Niall always knows how to deal with Harry's panic attacks, but that doesn't mean they don't terrify him. Harry shudders against his touch as he places both his hands over his, interlocking their fingers. 

“Breathe Harry, breathe slowly.” 

Harry makes a poor attempt at copying Niall's deep and steady inhale and exhales.

“You're okay, Louis's okay. What did I tell you mate? He'll be home soon, I know he will.”

He continues to whisper reassuring things and Harry can't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world, to have found such amazing friends. Sometimes he really isn't sure if he deserves them. Zayn comes outside and passes him a glass of water, running his hands through his curls and then leaning forward to kiss the top of his head.

“We love you mate,” he whispers. 

Harry lets his eyes slip closed as his breathing gets steadier, and Niall squeezes his hands before letting go and standing up straight. 

“You all right man?” Zayn asks finally. Harry nods, but then looks up at Zayn, who's blurred by the tears in his eyes, and he smiles sadly, shaking his head. 

“Me neither,” Zayn admits. 

Wednesday

Five days.

Harry feels like he's in prison, marking the days off on the wall with chalk. 

He feels sick again.

Harry can hear three voices in Niall's kitchen. 

“I'm going to fucking kill him for what he's put Harry's though,” Harry hears Niall snap. 

“No, we don't know what happened. Louis wouldn't leave him for no reason,” Zayn says. 

“Are you saying it's Harry's fault? I don't care what the reason is, there's no excuse for it Zayn.”

“Us arguing about this isn't going to help anything is it?” Liam's accent makes Harry smile, not realising how much he missed it. 

Harry's lying in the spare room, pretending to be asleep, despite not being able to shut his eyes for longer than a minute before needing to stand up and pace the floor again. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to block out the image of Louis, cursing him for being the only thing he can ever think about. The knock on the door is gentle. Harry knows it's Liam, and almost runs to the door, throwing it open and causing Liam to step back in shock. 

“All right Harry?”

“No...but better now you're here,” Harry says honestly. 

“I have nothing to say, and I'm trying to find words to say to make this better. But I can't think of any thing, and that really sucks,” Liam says. Harry feels himself smile, and although it feels weird, he's also pretty sure it's genuine. 

“I missed you,” he says, walking forwards and pulling Liam into a hug. 

They all spend the day watching films and eating way too much. Liam has brought loads of American sweets back from his holiday, and he starts to panic when he realises even Niall has been struggling to eat decent meals since Saturday. 

They all fall into each other, holding each other up and Harry's so grateful for it, he feels so much love for his best friends as they sit around chucking Reese's pieces into each others mouths and giggling over The Inbetweeners movie, even though they've watched it together hundreds of times already. Niall can even quote most of it from memory, like Liam does when they watch Friends. 

That night Harry falls into the first proper sleep he's had in almost a week. 

Thursday

When Harry is standing against the speakers, the music pounds in his skull and if he concentrates hard enough he can stop thinking altogether. He's finding it difficult to stay standing upright though, and as the room tilts slightly to the left he sees a blurry Nick trying to talk to him, his hands attempting to hold Harry up as he flops around like a puppet with broken strings.

“Harry mate, we need to get you some fresh air.” 

Nick curses as Harry's legs fold under him and he falls into a heap. 

“What's happened?”

“Has he taken something?”

“Shit, the press are every where outside. How are you going to get him out?”

All the voices blur into each other and Harry can feel waves of nausea hitting him as he struggles to get to his feet.

“Going to be sick,” he mutters, and two more arms are pulling him up and leading him to the men's toilet. People seem to part to let him through, probably recognising him. If Harry wasn't so incredibly drunk, he'd probably be really embarrassed right now. 

When they get to the toilet he drops down to his knees, and he feels someone moving his hair from his face, but hears Nick's voice somewhere behind them. 

“Don't shout at me Liam, he wanted to come out tonight okay? I took my eyes off of him for a second and he's wrecked...no Liam, I wasn't looking after him because he isn't a fucking child.”

“Stop shouting,” Harry says, and Nick lowers his voice slightly, still sounding angry. Finally he hangs up and turns to Harry. 

“I have to get up early tomorrow for the show, but Liam's awake and waiting up for you okay?”

Harry tries to nod but his head aches with the effort.

“Come on Styles, let's get you outside. I know a back exit that I've used here before.”

Harry clings to Nick and the other guy who's name he can't remember, and they make their way through the crowd again and outside. Nick hugs him good bye and holds him so tight Harry feels sick again.

“It's going to be all right,” Nick whispers. He says something to the other guy about taking care of Harry, and Harry tries to roll his eyes but gives up when he almost falls over again. He watches Nick walk away, and turns to look at the blonde who's about Harry's height and has his hair over his forehead and falling into his eyes. 

“I live near Liam, so I'll make sure you get back okay.”

Harry just nods and begins to follow him, concentrating hard on placing one foot in front of the other. 

“It's Scott by the way, I don't think you were listening when I introduced myself earlier.”

Harry smiles at Scot and shrugs in agreement, or apology, he isn't quite sure. Then as they continue to walk, he really focuses on Scott, looking him up and down in a not too subtle way. 

“Thanks for earlier, for like holding my hair back,” Harry says quietly, surprising himself with his coherent sentence when he's still struggling to walk in a straight line. Scott laughs quietly and nods.

“No problem mate.”

Scott walks ahead of Harry slightly, turning every now and then to make sure he's still there behind him. Harry can't help but let his eyes wonder over Scott's body, wondering briefly if he's a model like most of Nick's friends. He's skinny with a sleeve of tattoos down one arm which Harry can't quite make out in the dark. His jeans are also impossibly tight and as Harry's eyes land on his ass, Scott turns and catches his eye. 

It's the alcohol in his veins, a rush of adrenaline, the anger he feels towards Louis for abandoning him, because when Scott steps towards him and leans forward, Harry doesn't hesitate before placing a hand on the back of his neck and pressing his lips hard against his. It lasts half a second before Scott pulls back and begins to walk away. 

“Not tonight Harry, you don't want this. I do. I really, really do, but you love someone else,” 

Scott doesn't turn around again, just walks a little faster, so Harry has to stumble after him with his eyes on the floor and his head hurting even more than before. He closes his eyes for a moment and sees Louis smiling back at him, so he squeezes them shut until he sees red. 

When they get to Liam's door Harry mumbles a thank you before raising a hand to knock. Liam opens the door before he can though. He doesn't say a word, just opens his arms for Harry to fall into and doesn't ease his tight grip around Harry's shoulders until he's sure he's stopped crying.

“He's never coming back,” Harry chokes out between sobs. 

Friday

Harry and Louis had been through hell and back together, hiding, lying, and denying until they both felt exhausted. But they had been together. Throughout it all they had been Harry and Louis, Larry Stylinson, and Harry never once dreamed of walking out on what they had. Even when it became unbearable, they fought through it. Because it was worth it. 

Harry is back at his own flat for the first time since Tuesday. He's sitting on the floor in Louis's room and hugging his knees to his chest. Louis has been spotted at Heathrow airport, or at least someone who looks a lot like him, with dark sunglasses on and a beanie hat. 

It's twenty one minutes past nine in the evening when Harry hears a quiet knock on the door. Two quick raps against the wood and Harry knows it's Louis. His stomach turns as he runs to the door, almost tripping on the way in his haste. When he opens it he sees Louis, with shadows under his eyes. He's making that stupid face that he always makes when he's trying not to cry. 

“Can I come in?” Louis asks. Harry just nods and lets him through, closing the door behind him and breathing out heavily before turning to face him. Louis stands for a moment, avoiding Harry's angry eyes. The awkward tension feels so unfamiliar around the two of them. 

Finally, “You selfish fucking asshole,” Harry hisses out. Louis's head snaps up and he opens his mouth to say something but then just nods.

“I know. I am so sorry.”

“You could have called me.”

Harry tries to keep eye contact with Louis, to burn his way into him and force him to explain himself somehow. But Louis drops his eyes to the carpet again. 

“I couldn't...”

“Couldn't just speak to me? Let me know you weren't dead? Lou, you left me in LA on my own. You fucking left.”

Louis swallows again and blinks hard, obviously fighting tears, but Harry's started and he wants to break Louis down now, to make him feel what he has felt for the last week.

“I was so scared. You know I'd never do that to you Lou. That was so cruel. You think you can just turn up here and every thing will be okay again?”

“You fucking hurt me too Harry.”

Harry's anger collapses into itself and he feels tears on his cheeks. Louis bites down hard on his bottom lip, willing himself not to cry as well. 

“I know, I'm sorry,” Harry chokes out. 

“I needed time to myself, and it was really shitty of me to leave but I called my mum so you knew I was safe. I had to think about things, about what I really want.”

Harry's breath hitches in his throat, and he knows what's coming. He knows Louis is about to tell him it's over, and that he can't do it any more. He begins to shake his head, his whole body trembling as he tries to keep his breathing steady. When Louis opens his mouth to say it, Harry steps forward and kisses him. He rakes his hands through Louis's hair, tugging too hard, and biting on his lip. Louis kisses him back, his own hands on Harry's face. 

“Please don't leave me,” Harry says against Louis's lips in a quiet voice, and he isn't sure how he's going to cope when Louis begins to pull away. 

“Harry, I'm not going to leave you. I don't want to leave you,” he says. He smiles, his eyes crinkling as he runs his hand over Harry's cheek and then uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears. Harry leans into the touch, relief washing over him and causing him to let out a loud laugh which makes Louis smile even more. 

“I love you,” Louis adds.

“I love you too. I really do. And I know you love me, and I'm sorry.”

“Do you want to know what I really want? What I've been thinking about for the past week,” Louis asks. He moves Harry's messy hair from his eyes and kisses him on his forehead and then his nose, and then softly on his lips. 

“What?” 

“I want us to walk out of here holding hands.”


End file.
